After a productive season, I hit a wall and it wasn’t my body that was bruised from the impact. It was my soul.

Right around this time, there was an event happening that I normally participated in, but I heard God whisper not to take part. Attending this event was not what my soul needed. It would have resulted in more fatigue for my depleted self. Like a moth to flame, I was drawn to this bright and beautiful thing. But this phrase was stuck on repeat, calling me from it:

Tune out, so you can tune in.

But this event is a good thing, so more of a good thing must be good, right?

Wrong.

It was like I had eaten more than my share from the buffet and I wanted to keep going…keep reaching, keep filling, keep stuffing. It was tempting to want to fill up beyond capacity. But I had gorged on activity for so long that I needed to get empty so I could feel hunger again. Soul hunger.

I needed a break so I could be put back together.

Too much activity starved my soul of the basic needs it craved:

Space.

Light.

Warmth.

Silence.

A quick fill-up would not suffice. I needed slow, small, quiet to make sense of the ache that throbbed and demanded to be heard above the static.

I needed a respite—not just a break. I needed to rest within so I could breathe deep again.

After deliberations with my sister-in-law, I reinstated allowance in our home. The offspring now receive $3 a week—hey, Hubby and I used to receive 50 cents a week, so it’s an upgrade.

I instructed the children that they should save up for something special and not just fill our home with dollar store treasures (a.k.a. cheap junk). They had their eyes set on larger items until the cash started burning a hole in their pockets. They begged me to stop by the store in the midst of a million-things-to-do kind of day. They would not relent even though I tried to explain how much there was to do.

Much to their dismay we ran out of time and I ran out of energy—lugging the handful of kids around town.

So, I said that we would go the next day. I said it matter-of-fact, with every intent of it happening.

And then it didn’t.

I was achy from trying to do too much, the baby needed to eat, the toddler wouldn’t sleep, I couldn’t nap, and so on.

We ran out of time and steam.

I think there was steam coming out of the kids’ ears as I delivered the world-crushing news that we didn’t have time, again, to stop at the store.

They stomped, they screamed, and they called me a liar (more than once).

While their behavior was less-than-stellar, I felt guilty. I hadn’t meant to lie and I definitely don’t endorse lying. It wasn’t my intent to not take them. Life happened and plans changed and flexibility and empathy were needed but not offered.

Mom, you always lie.

You say we’re going to do something and we don’t do it!

You are a liar.

I was mad about the unfair accusations but also convicted that often times I unintentionally don’t keep my word. I wanted to remedy the situation so I apologized for what I could.

Kids, I’m really sorry it didn’t work out to take you to the store. I did say that we were going to go, but I should have said something like, ‘We will try our best to go. Or we will most likely go. Or we’ll see if it works out.’ Will you forgive me?

I want my kids to trust me. I need to more careful when I hand out promises. I want them to believe my words.

I said, “Oh no” because it’s hard to go without sugar (mostly dark chocolate) for that long and I don’t like to fight my flesh. And because I knew that God had heavy heart-work to do within this hungry soul.

But I also heard an “Oh yes!” resound from deep within because I want to crave Jesus and crush idols. I want to be made well—even though I know the process won’t be easy.

Before the fast officially started I had a pretty good idea about what God wanted to work on. And I knew it went deeper than my afternoon indulgences.

I’d strayed from putting Jesus first and had filled my life with counterfeits that left me wanting.

Last year I confessed anger and this year I’m confessing my addiction to approval.

I’m a people-pleasing, competitive, striving for significance kind of of woman.

I like to know where I stand. If my rank is not high enough in my eyes, I work longer, try better, scheme harder, and dream bigger to try and change that.

But the more you get caught up in numbers—whether on the scale, in your bank account or on your social media platforms—the more you get caught in web of discouragement.

The numbers won’t fulfill you. Some of the skinniest, richest, and most famous people are extremely unhappy.

True satisfaction is found in Jesus alone.

Jesus’ name is the sweetest.

His Word is what fills us.

We taste and see that He is good and we begin to lose our appetite for culture’s confections.

welcome

Hi, I'm Katie (a Modern Martha, wife, and mom to five). I'm so glad you're here! Let's enjoy some cut-to-the-chase conversation over hot or iced tea, as we find grace in the unraveling of life (together). Let's exchange try-hard striving for hope-filled freedom as we settle into our position as a doer and a daughter—created by a Loving Father.
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